HIGHER GROUND
Becky Black
www.loose-id.com
Higher Ground
Copyright © February 2012 by Becky Black
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eISBN 978-1-61118-765-6
Editor: Tamzin Mitchell
Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Chapter One
Zach took the long way around on his way back from lunch. It was worth being ten minutes late back to his lab for another chance of glimpsing the gardener at work in the field outside the Biological Sciences building.
He wasn’t in the field when Zach passed this time, but standing on the road by a flatbed vehicle, lifting off large trays. As he lifted three at once, he began to struggle, the one on top starting to slide. Zach almost fell off his bike, dropped it still running to the ground, and jumped to catch the tray.
“Thanks,” the gardener said, smiling, adjusting his grip on the other two trays. They held seedlings in plastic pots, each green shoot with a numbered tag stuck in the dirt beside it.
“No problem,” Zach said. “We all play for the same team.” God, what a dumb thing to say. “Which way now?”
He feared the gardener would say he could manage and take the tray back, but he didn’t. An amused look came into his eyes, and his smile widened. This close, Zach could see he was in his midtwenties; they were around the same age.
“Follow me.”
He led the way along a path through the neat rows of plants in the field, and Zach followed, trying to find a comfortable way to carry the square tray, each side of which was a meter long. The gardener carried his two trays more easily, and Zach tried to imitate him, but looking at him proved too distracting, from the reddish blond hair, to the tanned and freckled shoulders and arms shown off by a sleeveless shirt, to the strong legs in denim shorts. No, the man’s tray-carrying technique was not the first thing on Zach’s mind.
“I’m Adam, by the way,” the gardener said, glancing back at him.
“Zach Benesh.”
“Ah, so you’re Dr. Benesh.”
“Just Zach is fine.” How had this man heard of him? Was he the talk of the Institute? It seemed unlikely. Most of his time on Ethris had been spent on survey expeditions to other parts of the planet, scanning for mineral deposits. But he had all the survey data collected and would be staying here in Arius for the rest of his contract to analyze it.
Adam stopped by an unplanted section of the field and bent to put down his trays. Zach had to swallow an involuntary moan at the way his shorts stretched taut over his tight butt. Adam looked back at him, and he knew, Zach thought. His eyes were amused and his smile welcoming.
“On top,” Adam said, nodding at Zach.
Zach looked at him with a slack-jawed expression, which must have made it appear he’d had about a hundred points knocked off his IQ, until he realized Adam was referring to the tray of seedlings. Reviving, he placed it carefully on top of the other two. When he straightened up, he was less than a meter from Adam, close enough to see that the same freckles that dusted his shoulders were scattered lightly over his nose and cheeks too. His hair had light streaks where the sun had bleached it, and his blue-green eyes sparkled with some private amusement. Sun-kissed, Zach thought. He’d never seen anyone who fitted the description better.
He didn’t want to step away. He wanted to step closer, feel the heat of Adam’s fine body pressed against him, feel those large, strong hands on him, dirt under the fingernails and all. Wanted to run his hands, so pale and soft in comparison, through Adam’s thick, unruly hair.
“Thanks for the help,” Adam said, bringing Zach back to reality and making him step back, very much against the instinct urging him to grab Adam and kiss him. He couldn’t—the man would think him quite mad. But he could ask…
“Would you like to go for a drink?”
“I could murder a cold beer right now, but I guess I’ll have to wait until after work.”
“Of course. I mean me too.”
“I’m at the Dome Bar with some friends tonight. Come say hi, and we’ll chat.”
“Great.” Zach didn’t want the friends, but he’d see if he could get Adam alone. Belatedly he decided he should at least attempt not to appear too eager. Play it cool. “Some of my colleagues will be there tonight too. I guess I’ll tag along.”
Which would probably amaze them since the number of such invitations he accepted was effectively zero. But
